AU: I apologize for my inactivity in the past times. I have been going through some more difficult courses at school and am coming close to making a difficult decision which I need a lot of preparation for. I thank all of my readers who have stuck with me and gave me such wonderful comments.

I will admit that some of my stories have lost some motivation, but I can say I will still attempt to keep going at them. Updates from now on will definitely be more sporadic, and I cannot guarantee that I will finish all of my previous fanfics. Once more, thank you, everyone.

With this fanfic, I mostly planned for it to be a one-shot, but don't be surprised if I add in drabbles after the first story. I hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Naruto do not belong to me, and I do not make any profit from this (outside of the happiness of knowing people are enjoying my fanfics).

In the midst of nowhere, there was a small cafe, tranquil and isolated. A single man served within the business, wearing a black yukata with a gray obi and a black haori. Here, they found a solace with a civilian whose eyes were far more tired than the veteran shinobi. Here, they silently slipped away their masks for the civilian who wore a warm smile and beckoned them inside.

When the server first opened his quaint cafe, the Spinning Cafe, he sought only a means to balance the stains on his hands and give support to those like him, the support he was failed to be given. He did not seek riches, he held vaults of gold for such luxury. He did not seek to be a saint, the stains upon him spoke differently. He sought only solace and peace.

They were tired men, exhausted of the fighting, of killing. They were exhausted men who wished for a quiet place to reflect and relax without worrying about an enemy attack. It was there where they found their haven. It was there where they found a quaint man with a quaint cafe who cleaned their stains and soothed the pain.

He was from the Outlands, a land left undiscovered due to its eccentricity and distance. He ended one war and lead another. He fought as a child and grew tired as a man. He escaped to the mainland, gift in his soul and blood on his hands. He was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and the Man-Who-Conquered. A worthless title for the losses. A hyphen meant to ignore the dead. A means to forget the children who fought when the adults trembled and shook.

He took all he could with him. His vaults. His magic. His name. His Deathly Hallows. His sins. He took it all and bought a small building in the middle of nowhere, not within a nation and without association to a leader. He became Hari, a simple Hari without affiliations. And so, eternity dragged along. People stopped, people passed on.

Then, the Clans emerged, and the war fought savagely.

He received his first regular customer.

A weary man with spiky black hair. Lines of stress marred his face, and black eyes roved the building wearily.

"Welcome to the Spinning Cafe," Hari smiled with a bow, "How may I help you today?"

"For who do you serve?" the man growled, hand hovered over his kunai.

Hari merely continued to smile. "I am unaffiliated, accepting any who wish to not harm me. Today, our special is our rice cake and green tea. It is soothing to customers I have been told." Seeing the man was still wary, he added, "I do not mind you joining me in the kitchen to watch and listen as I bake."

The man nodded, feeling the exhaustion wearing down his bones. He followed Hari to the kitchen, hovering over the man's shoulder to watch the calloused hands work. He took in the man's relaxed posture, the lack of copper or elemental smells of his body, and the thin, short form.

He sat at the table once all was done and watched as the man sat across from him. He frowned, but took small bites, sipping the warm and soothing tea, humming in his quiet bliss. He felt his stress sluggishly fade away and his own posture relax.

"Would you care for a song?" Hari asked.

The man grunted, nodding his head as he took another bite.

Hari nodded obligingly, going to the corner of the room to a small stage assorted with different instruments he collected. He took out his favorite, the erhu, a simple long instrument of a few strings and a bow. Despite its simplistic appearance, it created the most wonderful, soothing of songs. He smiled as he began to play his favorite piece, the Spinning Song.

Inochi wa toki no naka wo(Life cuts across time)
nagare nagarete (And while becoming calm)
tokoshie no kiroku wo (Cuts eternity's records)
futae no rasen ni tsumugi yuku (Into two overlapping spirals and dies.)

Watashiwa kono uta wo (I'll recite)
utai katarite (This song)
setsuna no kioku wo (And carve a moment's memory)
hito no kokoro ni kizami yuku (Into people's hearts.)

Al a re laye
Al a re layo
Al a re laya
Al a reya

Inochi wa toki no naka wo (Life cuts across time)
nagare nagarete (And while becoming calm)
tokoshie no kiroku wo (Cuts eternity's records)
futae no rasen ni tsumugi yuku (Into two overlapping spirals and dies.)

Watashiwa kono uta wo (I'll recite)
utai katarite (This song)
setsuna no kioku wo (And carve a moment's memory)
hito no kokoro ni kizami yuku (Into people's hearts.)

Arare raie
Arare raiyo
Arare raiya

Al a re laye
Al a re layo
Al a re laya
Al a reya

The man offered a quiet applause. Hari bowed and gently placed the erhu to its previous position.

"You play quite well," the man complimented.

"Thank you," Hari bowed once more. "It is one of my favorites."

"How much for this all?" asked the man, prepared to get his pouch from the storage scroll on him.

Hari shook his head. "No payment necessary, shinobi-san. You are tired, and you have traveled long. I will not seek payment from a tired soldier. Helping you and listening to my song is enough payment for me."

The shinobi paused and observed his server closely once more. He bowed. "Thank you."

"Hari. My name is Hari," the server smiled. "Have a safe journey, shinobi-san."

"Uchiha Tajima," the shinobi responded before quickly exiting the building and running to his clan home.

"Welcome to the Spinning Cafe," Hari smiled with a bow, "How may I help you today?"

"Hari-san," Tajima bowed. "I have returned once more."

"And with some company it seems," Hari responded. "Your sons, I presume?"

"Hai," Tajima nodded. "It has been several years, and I wished to present your place to them." He turned to his nearly teenage sons. "Madara, Izuna. If you ever seek a solace and a listening ear, a place of peace, go to Hari. He is a trusted ally and comrade who has helped me many times through the aches of the battlefield. I am certain he will do the same for you."

The two brothers gazed curiously at the fragile-looking man. His eyes, deep pools of emerald, resonated with their own, and they smiled.

"Hari!" a voice shouted, interrupting the meeting.

The Uchiha family turned and were faced with another trio of Senju, Senju Butsuma, Senju Hashirama, and Senju Tobirama. Tajima and Butsuma locked gazed, battle instincts alighting their eyes, before nodding.

A sacred rule of Hari's, there is to be no war within his walls. Hari has proven many times, and he will have to many times again, prove how this rule is one he will not bend.

Hashirama ran up to Hari, hugging the man's leg. "Hari! Guess what? Guess what? Father is teaching Tobirama and I kenjutsu! His own personal style, too!"

Hari smiled down at the teen. "Are you having fun? Your father isn't pushing you too hard, is he?"

"Nope!" Hashirama grinned.

Madara watched the two engage and felt oddly excluded. He nervously went to the man as well.

"Hari-san, what exactly is this place?" Madara asked as he tugged the man's yukata.

"Yeah, Hari! Father never mentions exactly what it is," exclaimed Hashirama.

Crouching down to be eye-level with the two teens. He motioned for the two little brothers to join them as well, which they hesitantly obeyed when their brothers gave beckoning smiles. Hari smiled. "You see, shinobi fight for a long time, right? They must get tired just like you get tired after your training, right? I built this place for them. It gives them a place to rest, to eat, and to relax without worrying about getting attacked."

"Then, this place is peace?" Tobirama questioned, looking towards his brother whose ideals shared concepts with Hari's building.

"You can say it is," Hari said. "Tobirama, what do you think peace is?"

Tobirama shifted his shoulders. "I don't know. Hashirama is just always spouting off about it."

"To me," Hari began, "peace is a place when I can call something home. I can be at peace if I'm simply with a person, someone I care for and want to protect. I can be at peace if I am somewhere relaxing like a meadow. I can be at peace if I am playing my instruments and singing. Peace is a concept that revolves around finding appreciation for the minuscule things in my opinion."

"Like, how getting smiles from Madara-nii makes me feel happy!" Izuna chimed in.

Hari nodded. "Yes, just like that."

The boys' eyes seemed to glitter.

"Wow, Hari!" Hashirama shouted. "Your place is awesome!"

"Yes, boys," Butsuma rolled his eyes. "Now, shall we get something to eat?"

"Or perhaps, something to drink?" Tajima offered.

"'Kay!" the boys cheered.

Hari smiled.

"I hear the clans are speaking of a treaty," a woman whispered.

"Both Senju-sama and Uchiha-sama were there and actually participating, working together," another exclaimed.

"Maybe, we're actually going to end the war," a man thought aloud.

"Hopefully," a woman echoed.

"People say it is thanks to Hari-san," another chimed in.

"The man from the Spinning Cafe?"

"Yes, exactly."

"A great man, he is," the villager murmured. "He gives money and food without question. It is a wonder to have such a selfless person in a time like this."

"Hari is perhaps the reason of union," a second villager responded.

"Peace is on its way."

"Who is that?" the Kyuubi growled within its chains.

Uzumaki Mito glanced around. "Who?"

"The one who looks like an Uchiha with green eyes," Kyuubi snarled.

"Hari-san?" Mito asked. "He is the owner of the Spinning Cafe. His cafe has been a haven for many years."

"Is that so? Keep an eye on him," the Kyuubi remarked.

"He is less of a danger than you are. Besides, Hari has done much towards establishing peace," Mito said, narrowing her eyes. "Hari is not someone who would act carelessly in the name of chaos."

"No, he is a danger greater than I," the Kyuubi whispered before returning to his sleep.

In just a few years time, Konohagakure was built. Just outside of its land stood the Spinning Cafe, still unaffiliated and unattached, despite the many protests.

"I am a simple man whose only wish is to give solace for all people. I cannot do so with an affiliation or preference, thus, I will join none," Hari bowed. "Your offer gives me much pride, however. Thank you, but no thank you."

Butsuma looked to Tajima before returning his focus to Hari. "Hari, will you at least do us the honor of coming to our Hokage announcement?"

"I would be honored to. To whom is the title being given to?" Hari asked. He slowly started gathering the teacups, cleaning away any crumbs or spills.

"It was a tough choice between Hashirama and Madara, but Hashirama won out in the end," Tajima stated. "Madara was a bit depressed, but he regressed when Hashirama offered the position as his right-hand man. Tobirama was stationed as Hashirama's Prime Secretary with Izuna as his second."

Chuckling, Hari smiled warmly. "I'm glad those boys are finally getting along."

"No doubt, the Hokage Tower will go through several reconstructions with them," Butsuma drawled, rolling his eyes.

"A few fires will have to be put out as well," Tajima added, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Perhaps a few sparks of lightning, too," Hari commented cheerfully.

"Those boys," Butsuma sighed deeply, shaking his head in exasperation.

"They'll never change," Tajima remarked, a grin growing on his face.